


the night starts here (4/?)

by likecharity



Series: the night starts here [4]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fingerfucking, Ice Play, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Riding, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-13
Updated: 2008-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Skandar's not quite sure why, but it still seems completely </i>new<i> to him to be attracted to Anna. He knows he probably has been in a kind of vague, non-addressed way for the past couple of years, but it's made a big difference actually admitting it to himself. He's still not sure why accepting it was such a big deal, but it must've been, otherwise he would've done it a hell of a lot sooner, because the way things are now? Is </i>fantastic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the night starts here (4/?)

**Author's Note:**

> For once, this part is coming soon after the previous one instead of after a gap of several months! All the encouragement I'm getting is really helping, I guess. :)

"Well, that was a challenge," says Will, finishing off his glass of wine and slumping back on the sofa.

"Oh, it wasn't _that_ hard," Anna says, rolling her eyes. "We didn't even have to do anything. Except, oh, you know, keep our hands off each other for a few hours. Or was that what was so challenging for you?"

Will sighs dramatically, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "I could hardly control myself," he laughs.

It's been a few weeks, and the three of them have met up at Skandar's house to (rather belatedly) celebrate his GCSE results. The _challenge_ , Skandar supposes, was being around people they know, after things have developed between them the way that they have. Georgie has just gone off to bed (she and Anna are going to share Soumaya's room) and now it's just the three of them, sitting in the living room with the remainder of a bottle of wine.

"Nah," Will shrugs, "it's just hard pretending there's nothing going on. It feels weird hiding it from Georgie." 

"It'd feel weirder if she knew," Anna tells him, making a face. "I'm pretty sure."

Skandar listens to them sleepily, not bothering to get involved in the conversation. His head sinks down onto Anna's shoulder, and he curls up against her, letting his eyes fall closed.

"She is _smart_ though," Anna's saying, "I mean. Perceptive. You know. She's going to work things out if we're not careful."

"No one could _guess_ this," says Will dismissively.

"She will," Anna assures him. "Especially if you keep--"

"Keep what? I haven't been doing anything."

Skandar nuzzles closer to Anna, and presses his lips to her neck. She turns her head and looks at him as if she's only just noticed he's there.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Trying to distract the old married couple," he says, rolling his eyes. He kisses Anna's neck again, and lazily begins to push up the hem of her t-shirt. "Is it working?"

Will blinks at him. "We are _so_ not doing this here."

"It's my house," says Skandar with a shrug, successfully exposing most of Anna's stomach, and beginning to trace little patterns on it with his fingers. "I think that means it's up to me what we do here."

"But, Skandar," says Will lamely, and then lapses into silence.

Anna wriggles on the sofa as Skandar's fingers slide over to her waist. "That tickles!" she shrieks, giggling.

"Shh," Will whispers. "Someone might come in."

Skandar ignores him, slipping his fingers underneath the t-shirt now and grinning at Anna. "Is this better?" he asks, running his fingers between her breasts. The skin is warm and soft against his fingers and he curves his hand around one of the cups of her bra.

Will looks mournfully at the wine. "The second bottle may have been a mistake," he says.

"It's fine," Anna slurs, hooking an arm around his neck. "Everyone's gone to bed."

"Well, they're not _glued_ there!" Will hisses. "Someone might come down."

Will suddenly goes quiet, and Skandar gives up on trying to unhook Anna's bra with one hand and looks up. Anna has decided to shut Will up with her mouth.

It seems to be working.

Skandar grins triumphantly and slides both hands underneath Anna's top, tackling her bra again. He fails.

"Wi-ill," he groans, "can you do this? It's impossible."

Anna disentangles herself from Will and puts her hands behind her back, fiddling for a moment and then yanking her bra straps down off her shoulders. She pulls the unfastened bra from underneath her t-shirt, laughing, and holds it up.

Skandar gazes at her. "You," he says, in awe, "are a magician."

"Yes," she agrees. "That's me. Actress by day, magician by night. It's my big secret."

Skandar grins at her, but then he notices Will's still-nervous expression. "No one will come down, Will," he says. "And if they do, we'll get enough warning, because the stairs creak."

Will looks doubtful, so Skandar leans across Anna and kisses him.

Suddenly, a phone rings, and all three leap apart. Skandar looks automatically to the door, his heart pounding, but the noise is coming from Will's pocket.

"Sorry," Will says, wriggling around a bit and pulling out his phone. "Hello?"

He's silent for a moment, Anna and Skandar watching him, and then he stands up and leaves the room. Anna looks questioningly at Skandar, and he shrugs.

"He's such a spoilsport," Anna sighs, slouching back against the sofa. "We haven't seen each other in ages and he has to go and get a phone call."

"It's only been a few weeks," says Skandar. "How are you gonna cope when I leave for filming?"

Anna wrinkles her nose at him. "Dunno," she says. "Haven't really thought about it."

Skandar doesn't say anything for a moment. He hasn't really thought about it either, it just sort of came out. It's only a couple of months before he has to go, anyway, and it's probably something they should talk about. He never thought _he'd_ be the one to bring it up, though. 

The door opens and Will comes back in, looking slightly confused as he slips his phone back into his pocket. "That was Ben," he says.

"Oh," says Skandar.

"How come you didn't invite him?"

Skandar shrugs. "Dunno," he says. "Was I supposed to?"

Will copies his shrug, looking slightly concerned about something.

"You okay?" Anna asks. "Did he seem bothered?"

"Nah, it's nothing," Will says quickly.

"Ben," says Skandar crossly, "is really, really good at interrupting things. He should win an award or something."

"I'm glad he interrupted this," says Will, gesturing to the tangle of limbs that is Skandar-and-Anna-on-the-sofa. Then, seeing Skandar's offended look, he adds, "I mean, because it _is_ your parents' house."

"But we haven't seen each other in aaages," Skandar moans.

"I know," Will says softly, perching on the edge of the sofa, "but did you really think we'd be able to do anything here? With your Mum and Dad and Georgie in the house?"

Skandar puts on his best hard-done-by expression. "No," he says resentfully. "But _c'mon_ …"

"No!" says Will sharply. "We are not having sex in your parents' living room."

"I didn't mean _sex_ ," says Skandar. "I just thought we could mess around a bit."

Anna laughs, then, speaking up. "This is ridiculous. Are you guys actually having this conversation or is this some kind of bizarre dream?"

Skandar pinches her. "Ow!" she shrieks, rubbing her arm. "Oh, I see, very clever. Not a dream, then."

"Nope," he says. He looks at Will, who is still looking very serious. "Fiiiine," he says, heaving a sigh and getting out of Anna's lap. "We'll go to bed."

"Thank you," says Will as the two of them stand up. "I'm sorry, it's just--"

"Nah, I understand," Skandar says, because he does, even though he's not exactly _happy_ about it.

In the bathroom a few minutes later, the three of them get ready for bed. Anna is perched on the side of the bathtub, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush, with her bra draped across her knees. Skandar is sitting on the counter, swinging his legs, waiting for her to finish, and Will is already brushing his teeth.

"This is a bit weird," says Will through a mouthful of toothpaste. "It feels like a sleepover."

"It _is_ a sleepover," says Anna. "We've done this before."

"I know," says Will, pausing to spit in the sink, "but it feels really domestic."

Anna snorts. "Yeah, she says sarcastically, tossing the toothpaste tube to Skandar, "because if we were all married or whatever, we would meet up every night in the bathroom to brush our teeth at the _exact_ same time."

Will, rinsing off his toothbrush, turns around to flick some water at her, and she shrieks, nearly falling backwards into the bath.

"You know what I meant," he says defensively.

"I hate to break it to you, Will," says Skandar, grinning, "but we never know what you mean."

Just then, they hear the creaking of stairs, and a few seconds later, Georgie appears, standing in the doorway and blinking sleepily at them in her pajamas. 

"Sorry," says Will, genuinely, "were we making too much noise?"

She wrinkles her nose and nods, clearly too tired to say anything.

"Sorry," Anna and Skandar chorus.

"Go back to bed," Will says, stroking Georgie's hair gently. "We'll be up in a few minutes."

***

"I can't sleep," whispers Skandar. They've been in bed for about an hour now, but he's been awake through all of it, restless, listening to Will's light snoring and rustling in his sleeping bag. 

Will doesn't say anything. Skandar leans out of his bed and prods what he thinks is Will's shoulder, but still gets no response.

"Will," he whines, a little louder, "I can't sleep."

Will sort of grunts and rolls over onto his back, staring blearily up at Skandar in the dark.

Skandar rolls over, falling out of bed and landing neatly on top of Will. Will groans.

"Nice reaction," grins Skandar appreciatively. "Do that again."

Will just glares at him, and Skandar fumbles around for a bit, unzipping the sleeping bag and reaching down to Will's crotch.

"Skandar," Will sighs sleepily, "we had this conversation already. Not. Doing. This. Here."

Skandar kisses him firmly on the lips, grins, and then does it again, teasing Will's mouth open with his tongue. He tastes like toothpaste. He wants to grin again when Will responds pretty quickly. He manages to get his hand under the waistband of Will's boxers, but that's when Will stops him.

"If your parents walk in on us with your hand down my pants," he says, "it is one hundred per cent your fault."

"What if they walk in on us with _your_ hand down _my_ pants?" Skandar asks, rolling over and pulling Will down on top of him.

"How horny are you?!" laughs Will. "I mean, seriously--" but Skandar doesn't allow him to get any further, and intercepts the sentence with his mouth.

Will makes that groaning noise again and pulls away. "Seriously, Skan," he says. "We can't do this. Not here."

"I don't see you moving," Skandar retorts.

"That's because you're trapping me here with your legs."

Skandar peers over Will's shoulder, seeing that his legs are, in fact, wrapped around Will's hips. "So I am!" he laughs. "Wonder how that happened."

Will rolls his eyes. "Damn you," he mutters, a smile creeping across his lips. "You're pretty hard to resist."

"I'm pretty _hard_ ," Skandar tells him, pushing his hips upwards so that Will can feel his growing erection.

Will makes a frustrated noise. "We are so not doing this."

"We so _are_ ," Skandar grins, tightening the grip he has with his legs, and raising his arse off the mattress to rub his half-hard cock against Will.

He grins even wider when Will makes that groaning noise again and starts to rock back against him, moving slowly with him.

After a moment, Will smiles against his neck and murmurs in his ear, "You realise I'm practically fucking you right now."

"What? You are _not_ ," snaps Skandar indignantly, forgetting to keep his voice down.

"Shh," Will whispers. "And I am. If we were naked right now, I'd practically be inside you."

Skandar feels his cheeks burning and he kind of wants to push Will away, but there's actually something he kind of _likes_ about being underneath him like this. He just makes a face instead. "No way."

"Would you ever want to try it?" Will asks, his voice low and lazy in Skandar's ear.

"No way," Skandar repeats.

Will frowns, and starts moving again, which makes Skandar a little mad, but he can't bring himself to stop him. It feels kind of good, after all, and Will's cock is starting to get hard now too, pressing up against him. Just below his balls. Nearly against his _arse_. Will's right. He _is_ practically fucking him.

"Why not? You've done it to me."

"Yeah, but you like it."

Will kind of laughs at this, rolling his eyes. "How do you know you wouldn't?"

"I just know," says Skandar. 

He's starting to feel pretty uncomfortable now, and he's about to push Will off him when there's a gentle knocking at the door.

Skandar's heart leaps into his throat and Will's eyes go wide, and the door opens almost immediately after, and neither of them have time to get out of the compromising position they're currently in.

"Oh, thank _fuck_ ," Will sighs when Anna slips into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. "It's just you."

Skandar lets his legs drop onto the mattress and Will sits up, looking at Anna with an expression of huge relief on his face.

"You scared us half to death," he tells her, running a hand through his hair.

Anna squints at them in the dark. Skandar feels his cock stiffening even more against his boxers just from the _sight_ of her, which is pretty ridiculous, but he can't help it. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt, which hangs loosely off her, skimming her pale thighs. There's a clear swell at the chest, and her hair is messy and tangled and her lips look somehow _fuller_ than usual.

And she looks kind of angry.

"What the hell are you two doing?" she hisses at them, crossing her arms. This has the effect of pushing her breasts together, making an obvious crease between them in the fabric of the t-shirt, and because of this, it takes Skandar a moment to reply.

"He was trying to persuade me to take it up the arse," he says.

" _Skandar!_ " snaps Will. "God. Be a little more _crude_ , why don't you."

"What! That's what you were doing."

Both of them turn back to Anna, who has her hands on her hips now, and is quite clearly trying her very best not to smile. She fails after about three seconds, and her mouth splits into a wide grin as she shakes her head despairingly at them.

"Well," she says. "You might want to save the in-depth discussions about anal sex for another time."

" _In-depth?_ " Skandar repeats, sniggering. "Anna, come on."

She sighs, pursing her lips at him in annoyance. "Okay, poor choice of words," she whispers, "but really -- I could hear you from the other room."

"You could _hear_ us?" Will asks, looking suddenly panicked again.

"Not any exact words," says Anna, looking, honestly, a little disappointed about this, "but I could tell you were talking."

"Could Georgie?" Will asks.

"No, I think she's still asleep," Anna says. "You know what she's like. Could sleep through World War 3. Luckily." She looks at Skandar, who forces his eyes up to her face. "But seeing as your Mum and Dad are _just across the hall_ , you might want to keep it down."

"That's what I was trying to tell him," Will says exasperatedly.

"Seems like you got distracted," Anna smirks. "Which is easily done, apparently," she adds, waving a hand in Skandar's direction. "I do have a face, you know."

Skandar drags his eyes up from Anna's legs and blinks at her. "What?"

"He's insatiable tonight for some reason," Will chuckles. Skandar's not entirely sure what 'insatiable' means, but he hits Will with a pillow anyway, just in case he's being insulted.

"I'm going back to bed," Anna says, looking back over her shoulder as she turns towards the door.

The t-shirt is somehow shorter in the back than it is in the front, Skandar observes, noting the way it barely covers Anna's arse and the red knickers she's wearing. When she reaches for the doorknob, it rides up even further, and now even Will is staring.

"Go to sleep, you perverts," she whispers at them, blowing a kiss as she slips back out of the room.

"How are we supposed to sleep after _that?_ " Skandar demands, throwing himself back down onto Will's mattress.

Will squeezes into the space next to him, propping his head on his hand. "You really like her now, don't you?"

Skandar raises his eyebrows. "Hello, Captain Obvious," he says. "You're a bit slow."

Will just rolls his eyes. "No, but like -- I wasn't really sure, before," he says.

"What do you mean 'before'? When the three of us were having sex?"

"Oh, shut up, you know what I mean," Will says, giving him a prod in the ribs.

Skandar shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. "I always fancied her," he says, which he's not sure is totally true, but he's not really in the mood for a heart-to-heart.

"Then how come it took you so long to have sex with her?" Will asks.

"Is that the definition of 'fancying someone' to you?" Skandar teases.

Will prods him again, but puts less enthusiasm into it this time. "I was just wondering what's going on with you two," he says. "I never really got it. Sometimes it seemed like you really wanted each other, and sometimes it was like you hated each other and it was really awkward."

"Hated each other?" says Skandar, frowning. 

He's never hated her, but maybe jealousy and hatred look pretty similar from the outside. There's no way he's going to say that _out loud_ though. Will doesn't need to know that he sometimes gets jealous of Anna. _His head's big enough as it is,_ Skandar thinks, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know," murmurs Will, and pauses to yawn. "Well, whatever. I'm glad it's okay now. Apparently sex solves everything."

"Even insomnia?" Skandar asks.

"What? I dunno, probably," Will says, yawning again, and then notices the grin on Skandar's face and thumps him. " _No._ God, anyone would think you _want_ to get caught."

"Maybe I have an exhibitionist side that you never knew about," Skandar smirks.

"Can we explore it some time when I'm not falling asleep?" Will says boredly. "Go on. Get back into your own bed."

Skandar snuggles down and presses his face against Will's chest so that he doesn't have to look him in the eye. "I like falling asleep with you," he mumbles.

"Soppy," Will says, but he reaches round to rub Skandar's back soothingly. "I know. Me too. But your parents are probably going to come say goodbye in the morning before they leave, so..."

His parents are going to visit Soumaya at university, and while he's glad to get rid of them for a day, it does have some downsides. Skandar sighs, but then Will leans down and kisses him, and that makes things a little better.

"You can come stay at my new flat all the time once I've moved in," Will says, and Skandar almost rolls his eyes -- in the past few months, Will must have mentioned that he's moving to London about _a hundred times_ \-- but then he actually pays attention to the rest of the sentence, and cheers up.

"Really?" he asks.

"Yeah, it's not going to be far, remember?" Will says, smiling. "You can come stay and then we can fall asleep together as much as we want."

"Among other things?"

"Among other things," grins Will. "Now let's get some sleep."

Reluctantly, Skandar stands up and climbs back into his own bed. But when Will is asleep, snoring lightly, Skandar rolls over to watch him, pretending he's curled up next to him.

***

Skandar's not quite sure why, but it still seems completely _new_ to him to be attracted to Anna. He knows he probably has been in a kind of vague, non-addressed way for the past couple of years, but it's made a big difference actually admitting it to himself. He's still not sure why accepting it was such a big deal, but it must've been, otherwise he would've done it a hell of a lot sooner, because the way things are now? Is _fantastic._

"Does Anna have something on her face?" Georgie asks suspiciously, reaching across the table for the Cornflakes. 

Skandar's parents have already left, and the four of them have all -- quite impressively -- gotten up at the same time, and are eating breakfast before Georgie gets picked up.

"Do I?" says Anna, bringing a hand to her cheek self-consciously.

"Skandar was looking at you funny," Georgie says, and it's only when his name is mentioned that Skandar actually realises what they're talking about.

Okay. So he's still a little distracted.

But he doesn't really think it's his _fault_ when Anna's sitting there all fresh and awake with her hair tied back and -- and a really low-cut dress on. He's pretty sure she's always looked like this, which is what makes him regret not noticing it sooner. He could have spent a lot more time doing this sort of thing.

Of course, it's probably just that he was too busy obsessing over Will to pay her much attention. And the thing with Will is -- well, he's just so _used_ to feeling this way about him. He's used to all of Will's expressions and all of the things he says and the way all of his clothes look on him. And it doesn't make him appreciate them any less, but to feel the same way about someone new, someone _extra_ , is pretty exciting.

Especially when he adds in the fact that he actually gets to sleep with her.

 _Life is good_ , he thinks, smiling into his cup of juice, and then realises that Georgie is looking at him very strangely.

"You are acting so weird this morning," she says, squinting over a cereal box across the table. Anna, next to her, smirks at him. "I'm not sure I _want_ to spend like, six months with you."

Anna's smirk fades, and Will starts to busy himself with putting the kettle on for some more tea. 

"You'll learn to love it," says Skandar, flicking a spilled cornflake at her.

And they don't talk about it.

***

"You could stay," Skandar is saying, watching as Will packs up his backpack an hour or so later. 

Georgie has just been picked up by her Dad, and Will has realised that he needs to leave pretty sharpish if he wants to get home soon. 

"You don't _need_ to go," Skandar adds hopefully.

"I do," Will insists. "I move out in four days, I've got to start packing things up."

Anna wanders in, tossing Will his toothbrush.

"Thanks," Will says to her, and then to both of them, "I know it sucks, but you can come visit the second I move in. You could even help me move in!"

"I can't," says Anna. "It's on Sunday, isn't it? I have an audition."

"Oh yeah, the murder thing," says Will.

"It's not a 'murder thing'," Anna says, rolling her eyes, and Skandar wonders how many times he's heard this exchange.

"You're auditioning for the part of a woman who murders someone," says Will, shrugging as he zips up his backpack. "It's a murder thing."

"I'll murder you in a minute," Anna threatens, and Will holds his backpack up in front of his face, laughing.

Later, once they've watched him drive off, Anna kicks at some gravel and looks off into the distance towards her own house.

"I guess I'll go home, then?" she says, turning back to Skandar and squinting at him in the sunlight. 

It's probably the hottest day it's been for a while, Skandar thinks, thankful that he put on some shorts today instead of his usual jeans.

"Unless you want to hang out," he offers, gesturing back towards the house.

She shrugs. "Sure."

***

"It's so _hot_ ," groans Anna. 

They're sort of in the middle of playing on the Playstation, but Anna has apparently decided that the heat is stopping her from continuing. Which is understandable, really, because it's _boiling_. Anna flings herself down onto the leather sofa and starts fanning herself with her hand.

Skandar loses control of his vocal chords, and just stares. She's wearing a short, pale pink dress that buttons all the way up the front, and at the moment she's got at least _four_ of the top buttons undone and the fabric of the skirt is pooled around her as she sprawls on the sofa with her legs spread. There's a sheen of sweat across her chest, and a sweet pink tinge on her knees and her cheeks and her elbows, and Skandar wants to make some sort of clever comment but he honestly can't speak at all.

"Skandar?" Anna says, lifting herself up on her hands, which draws his eyes to her tits, spilling forwards and barely contained by her dress. "It's so hot. Can we do something about it?"

Skandar makes a few croaking noises in his throat before he manages to speak. "I don't know," is all he can say at first, and then he realises that to answer the question he actually needs to engage his _brain_ as well. His brain is too busy conjuring up some lovely images of Anna taking off that dress, which, to be fair, probably _would_ cool her down.

"I know the windows are all open and everything, but _really_ ," she whinges, "isn't there anything else we could do?"

"We have ice lollies," he says, gesturing vaguely towards the kitchen.

"Ohh, that sounds _amazing_ ," she practically moans, throwing herself back on the sofa, and Skandar, adjusting his shorts, heads towards the freezer.

A few minutes later, they are sitting on the sofa with an ice lolly each, and Skandar is wondering why exactly Wall's had to make these things so _phallic._

Then he has to wonder whether Anna is actually aware of the fact that she's giving her ice lolly a blowjob, or if she's completely oblivious and has no clue that she's driving Skandar crazy. She has her lips wrapped around the shiny, smooth red tip, and is sucking it into her mouth greedily.

"This," she says appreciatively, pulling it back out of her mouth, "was a really really good idea. It's cooling me down already. What about you?"

 _Not really,_ Skandar thinks with a sigh.

She's still looking at him, and she has a little trickle of red juice running down her chin, and that's when Skandar just thinks _fuck it_ and kisses her.

She doesn't seem all that surprised, and they both throw their lollies down onto a newspaper on the coffee table and sprawl out on the sofa, him on top of her. Her lips are red and slick, and her mouth tastes like strawberry, and her tongue is _cold_ from the ice which sends tingles down his spine.

"I'm sticking to the couch," she says after a moment, which really shouldn't be sexy.

"Do you want to go up to my room?"

"Yeah," she says, "please."

They keep kissing almost all the way up the stairs, and she pushes him down onto the bed the moment they enter his bedroom. It's too hot -- _way_ too hot -- to be this close to her, in this weather, but he can't stop. She's on top of him, straddling him, and his cock is so hard it's aching and straining in his shorts. He knows she can feel it, and she rocks against it, gripping onto the sides of his shirt, pulling herself across the bulge.

And then she's leaning back down, flush against him, her breasts heaving against his chest, and the room has _got_ to be about a hundred degrees by this point. She moans into his mouth.

"It's too hot," she says. "Agh, god."

He can't even say anything, he just slides out from underneath her and tears his t-shirt over his head, and he's glad to have done it so quickly because it means he gets to watch her undress afterwards. She undoes the rest of the buttons on her dress, exposing herself bit by bit, and the flashes of her bra and her stomach and her thighs are almost more than he can take.

Finally she's tossing it onto the floor, and, on her knees, pulling him towards her with her hands on either side of his face, kissing him deeply, tongue pushing between his lips. He shuffles onto his knees as well, reaching behind her and _dammit_ he's going to undo her bra this time.

He does, after only a few seconds of fiddling, and she gasps as it falls off and her bare breasts press against his chest. He reaches to touch them, and the skin is hot and damp with sweat, and she fumbles with his belt.

"Is this okay?" she says, pausing after she's unzipped his shorts.

"What?" he says, baffled. " _Yeah._ "

She laughs, because it's pretty clear that what they're doing is much more than okay in _that_ sense, but then she says, "No, but, what about Will?"

He almost says, _what_ about _Will?_ but manages to stop himself. "It's okay," he assures her. "We don't always have to be, you know, the three of us."

"We don't?" she says in a small voice. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he says, a little confused.

After all, he and Will were having sex practically constantly the whole time Anna was off gallivanting around buying sex toys with Tilda, and if he was allowed to do that with Will, then why not Anna as well? _Girls are weird_ , he decides, as he wriggles around trying to get his shorts off.

She hesitates, so he kisses her again, trying to reassure her some more. It seems to work, because she relaxes, and then nearly brutally injures him with her nails in her hurry to get his boxers off. 

Yeah, okay. She's not so worried anymore.

She slides down along the bed, kicking covers out of the way, and Skandar only has a chance to think _oh my god, she's going to use her_ mouth, before she does, taking the smooth, shiny head between her lips and sucking, and Skandar thinks he's going to pass out.

The amount of times he's laid in this bed and fantasised about getting a blowjob is -- well, too large to even count, and now here he is with _Anna_ doing it, her dark head bobbing up and down between his legs and her gorgeous full lips around his cock. He can't control his breathing, it's coming out like he's _hyperventilating_ or something, but all it's doing is urging her on, making her hollow her cheeks and take him in deeper.

He grabs fistfuls of the sheet, pulling it free from the mattress, and then she has his _whole cock_ down her throat and it takes all of his self-control to make her stop before he comes. He doesn't want this to be over so quickly.

"Fu-u-uck," he exhales as she looks at him and wipes her mouth, laughing. "You are -- that --"

Now he sees why Will always gets that slack-jawed idiot look on his face whenever she goes down on him. 

"It's so hot," is all she says, though, pouting as she wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. Her hair is coming loose from its ponytail, little thin wisps of it curling slightly around her temples from the heat.

"I know," he says, and they're basically talking about the fucking _weather_ when she just very nearly gave him what he's pretty sure would've been the best orgasm of his life, and it's ridiculous. 

But it is really, really hot, far hotter than it should be allowed to be in England, and they're pretty much naked and the window's wide open (and Skandar hopes the neighbours aren't out in their gardens, because _fuck_ ) and he doesn't know what else he can do.

"Okay," he says, attempting to think about this logically. "We've done ice lollies. What else is cold?"

"Snow?" suggests Anna, smiling, and he laughs and shakes his head at her.

"Yeah, okay," he says. "You go find some snow, I'll wait here."

She bats him playfully, but then her eyes go wide and she says, "Ice!"

"Ah," he says. "Ice -- we have ice."

"I'll go get it," she says, and is throwing on his t-shirt and hurrying out of the room before he even has a chance to tell her which freezer drawer it's in.

He busies himself with stripping the bed of everything but the two pillows and the undersheet, knowing they won't need any more than that. He'd shut the curtains, too -- because after all, he is standing stark-naked in front of the window at the moment -- but if a cool breeze suddenly turns up out there, he wants it to be able to come into the room as freely as possible.

The window doesn't face the bed, anyway.

He's only just sat back down when Anna comes back in, dropping the ice cube tray on the desk and stripping off her t-shirt the second she enters the room.

"It's a fucking heatwave!" she cries, and Skandar finds himself just staring at her again. Her knickers are still on, though he plans to change that as soon as possible, but apart from those she's naked, flushed and glowing.

"Pass them here," Skandar says, and she holds the tray out to him before spreading herself out on the bed, arms and legs outstretched.

He puts the ice cube tray down next to him and settles himself between her legs, peeling off her knickers. He's pretty sure they're not just damp from sweat, and she grins down at him as he scrunches them into a ball and throws them dramatically over his shoulder. He looks, probably for too long because she starts squirming uncomfortably, but he can't take his eyes away.

"Ice cubes," she reminds him suddenly. "Give me one."

He twists the tray until the ice cubes loosen up a bit, and he plucks one out and pops it into his mouth. It's freezing cold, of course, but it feels good in his hot mouth, cooling him down.

"That is so unfair," says Anna, sitting up. "Come on. Give me one."

He just grins wickedly and presses his lips against hers. He pushes the ice cube forwards slowly with his tongue until it's between their lips, and he feels it slowly melting into his mouth.

"That felt really good," she says when it's almost entirely melted and he's crunching the remains between his teeth.

"There are probably things that would feel better," he says thoughtfully. "Lie back down."

She sort of rolls her eyes at him, probably because he's telling her what to do, but she lies down anyway.

Skandar reaches for another ice cube and sucks it into his mouth for a moment, then settles himself down between her legs and leans forward, pressing the wet cube gently to her stomach. She jerks, shuddering, and it sends a jolt to Skandar's groin.

"Woahh, that's cold," she murmurs.

"Genius observation," he teases, sliding the ice cube upwards, towards her breasts, across the smooth, hot skin between them. She stops shuddering, but her body is tense still, and she's biting her lip.

When he brings the ice cube to one of her breasts, she does flinch again, but he can tell she's enjoying it from the look on her face. When he presses the ice to her nipple, it hardens immediately and she shivers, breathing heavily.

"Is that good?" he whispers, rolling the ice cube over her skin, watching it melt quickly.

She just whimpers in response, and he drags the ice cube across to her other nipple, leaving a trail of water behind. When the ice cube is only a small sliver, he licks it up with his tongue and kisses her. She raises up from the bed against him, and he wonders how much longer he's going to be able to last.

He distracts himself by getting another ice cube, first wetting it with his mouth before stroking her stomach with it once again. He runs it lower, lower, zig-zagging through the hair between her legs and wetting it. She widens her legs, one of her feet dropping off the side of the bed, and he brings the ice lower with trembling fingers.

Her slick folds are so hot that the ice almost melts into nothing straight away, and she jerks against him, grabbing hold of his other hand and squeezing it tightly. It's torture for him as well, having this ice cube here as a barrier, and he runs it over her skin, careful to avoid her clit -- if it's sensitive at the best of times, he can't imagine holding _ice_ against it will go down too well -- and before long it's just water under his fingers.

He slides one of his fingers into her without even needing her to ask, and she moans gratefully, her hips bucking up towards him. She's even hot _inside_ , hotter than he's felt her before, and he lays down against her, kissing her neck and thrusting his finger, curling it gently, drawing slight sighs from her mouth.

"Two," she says softly, "two, please..."

"My," he says mockingly, chuckling against her neck, "aren't we eager?"

"You're such a wanker," she laughs breathily, and he nips at her ear, pushing a second finger alongside the first, feeling her stomach quiver against his arm.

He still can't believe he's actually doing this, which makes him feel stupid because he thinks he probably should be used to the whole thing by now, but he just _isn't_ , and every gasp from her lips and shuddering clench around his fingers feels like the first.

And he knows he shouldn't be surprised when she looks at him, heavy-eyed, and murmurs, "Can we--?"

He's been dreaming about having sex with her again ever since the first time, and in the back of his mind, of _course_ he was expecting this to lead up to that, but hearing her ask is such a novelty. He wants to say so, wants to kiss her again and tell her just how much he wants her, but instead he hears himself saying,

"I don't have any--"

Before he even says 'condoms', she is throwing her head back down against the pillow and making a very loud, very frustrated noise.

"You're _kidding_ ," she groans. "We need to carry them around at all times, apparently. This can _not_ keep happening. What about Soumaya?"

"If she had any," says Skandar, not particularly wanting to think about it, "she took them with her to Uni."

Anna makes a face. "Your parents?"

Skandar feels faintly sick. "My _parents?_ "

"You never know," she shrugs, "they might still--"

"ARGH," Skandar practically yells. His cock seems to go soft immediately at the suggestion.

"It's worth a try!" Anna insists. "Unless you don't _want_ \--"

He sighs, climbing off the bed, accepting his fate. He reaches for the ice cube tray and dumps it on the floor just to get it out of the way, and stomps towards the door, Anna quickly following him.

"There won't be any," he tells her as they head into his parents' bedroom. "There just won't. This is pointless. There won't be any."

He's not particularly comfortable with ransacking their entire bedroom, and figures that if they had condoms (which they so, _so_ don't), they would keep them in their en-suite bathroom. So in they go.

Anna immediately sighs in pleasure at the coldness of the bathroom tiles. "Ohh, that feels good."

He shoots her a look.

"I mean. Let's stay focused. What do they keep in there?" she asks, as Skandar crouches down to open the cupboard under the sink. 

He hands her a box of tampons, two rolls of toilet paper, a bottle of shampoo and a spare toothbrush, and then right at the back, he finds a small black bag.

"What's that?" asks Anna, kneeling down next to him.

"I don't want to know," he groans, head in his hands.

"I'll look," she says confidently, and he doesn't even watch as she pulls it out and unzips it.

The dread is killing him.

"What's in there?" he asks in a small, fearful voice.

"We've hit the jackpot, Keynes," comes Anna's voice triumphantly, and he makes a small, whining pathetic noise. "Not just condoms, but _lube._ Also -- oh my _god_ \-- I think this is a --"

"DON'T SAY ANYTHING ELSE," Skandar shouts, "OR WE WILL NEVER HAVE SEX AGAIN, BECAUSE I WILL KILL YOU."

Anna just giggles, and he slumps back against the wall, holding his hands tightly over his eyes.

"Take out one condom," he says, "and put everything else back."

She seems to be doing this, because he hears the zip again and then a lot of rustling.

"Okay," she says after a while, "you can open your eyes now. You are so pathetic."

"Imagine if it was _your_ parents!" he says defensively, taking his hands off his eyes.

She goes slightly pale, but recovers quickly. "Hey," she says, "it's a good thing your parents are still sexually active--"

"OH MY GOD," says Skandar.

"--because if they weren't, we wouldn't be either," she finishes, holding up the condom.

"I hope," says Skandar, "that that is very old. Very very old."

" _I_ don't," snorts Anna. "I wouldn't have much faith in a condom that'd been kept in the back of a cupboard for a few years or something."

"A few?" repeats Skandar. "I was thinking more like sixteen."

She laughs, rolling her eyes at him, and when they go back to the bedroom he is still trying to block the entirety of the past five minutes from his memory, because if he doesn't, he may never, ever get his erection to come back.

Okay, so that part turns out to be a _lot_ easier than expects. All it really takes is Anna practically throwing him down on the bed and climbing on top of him, and then he's hard again almost immediately. 

"I can't believe we're doing this," she says, suddenly, laughing and shaking her head, twisting as she straddles his thighs. He can feel the wet heat of her against his skin and he's about to say, _me neither,_ but then she continues. "This is the worst plan to combat hot weather, _ever._ "

Oh.

He nods, agreeing hoarsely, and she runs a sweaty palm over his chest and stomach before sliding the condom onto him. He pushes all thoughts of where the condom came from out of his head, and raises himself up to kiss her.

He did wonder if it'd feel weird not having Will here, and it does, but maybe not as much as he expected. It's only the logistics really, like their positioning. When Anna slides across the sheet, spreading herself with quivering fingers and lowering herself gently onto his cock, it's so much _easier_ than having an extra set of limbs tangled up with them. It's easier to concentrate on the two of them, and doing it right. 

But Skandar half-expects to hear a grunt or a groan from Will, wants to hear him saying something to urge them on. And if he's honest, he misses it; feels a little bit guilty for having this incredible experience and not sharing it with him.

But -- he's fully sheathed inside Anna now, feeling that glorious tight heat wrapping itself around his cock, and she moans openly and honestly, deep and low in her throat, and leans forwards over him, and for the moment, he doesn't want _anything_ else. He's suddenly hit by the fact that this is the bedroom he's grown up in, and right now he's fucking the girl from down the street, and really, that's a dream come true for most guys his age.

And it's _Anna._ It's fucking _Anna._

When she straightens up and starts riding him, quickly, her tits bouncing, that's pretty much all he can process.

He heaves out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and she grins at him, pulling herself up off his cock and then sliding back down again, and Skandar unexpectedly finds himself thinking, _bet Will would love to see her now._

It'd be okay, probably, if he meant that in a nice way, a wish-you-were-here way, but he doesn't. He means it in a _competitive_ way, knowing -- or at least, assuming -- that Will's never fucked her like this, and _liking_ that fact, feeling like he's got one over on him.

The thought startles him so much that he almost wants to push Anna off him and stop this, but then she quickens the movement of her hips, her expression turning serious again -- eyes half-closed, lips parted and wet, head tilted back -- and she's so slick and soft and so fucking _hot_ inside that it pushes him off the edge, blinded by his own sexual desire.

" _Fuck,_ " he hears himself say, and he reaches out, hands sliding around her sweaty hips, raising his arse off the bed, moving with her. It doesn't matter about anything else.

And Will was the one who always wanted her -- god, how _pathetic_ , Skandar thinks, fawning over her all these years -- and now he's got her, sure, but he hasn't even got her to _himself_ , because where is he now? Skandar almost wants to laugh, because he never even paid her all that much attention before and now he's the one making her cry out and bite her lip, and Will's at home, packing boxes.

He hates himself, somewhere deep down, he really does, but right now Anna is steadying herself to reach down to where they join, her fingers delving beneath her damp curls to rub at her clit, and Skandar knows she's getting closer already, and really -- _really_ \-- it's like nothing else matters. He pushes the guilt away, holds her tighter, whispers things he never thought he'd say out loud, and feels her come hard, throwing herself down against him, breathless, her skin burning hot against his own.

He wraps his arms around her and thrusts upwards, orgasm growing nearer and nearer every second as he thinks of Will all alone at home, and she whimpers into his ear, her hair coming loose from its ponytail and blanketing most of his face. 

"Anna," he chants, "Anna, Anna."

He slides his hands down to her arse, squeezing, his hips pistoning as if out of his control. She lifts herself back up, and stares at him, but when he comes it's not just her that he sees, it's Will.

He feels like he weighs about a ton when he comes back down, slumped on the bed with Anna rolling over to lie next to him. His come's dripping out of the condom in a really gross-feeling way, and he wishes Will were here to help clean him up, but he isn't, so he forces himself to sit up and do it himself. He chucks the condom into his bin and covers it with some scrunched-up tissues on the off-chance his parents might see it, and Anna curls up on her side and watches him silently.

He pads back across the room towards the bed, and when he joins her again, it feels like it's a hundred times hotter than it was before. She curves an arm across his stomach, but he squirms and slides it off again, mumbling, "Too hot."

He knows she understands _really_ , but only a few seconds later she's standing up and starting to get dressed again. And it's not comfortable, not at all. It's really fucking awkward.

"I've got to get home," she says, flashing him a somewhat unconvincing grin. "I've got some stuff to do."

He nods. "Sure. Okay." He watches as she finishes getting dressed, and feels oddly like he shouldn't.

He kisses her goodbye at the front door, his own clothes lazily thrown back on now.

"Are you going to help Will move in?" she asks as he unlocks the door.

"I might," he says. "Dunno. Sounds kind of boring."

"I think he'd appreciate it though," she says, shrugging, glancing around as she steps outside. "And you can...you know, spend some time just the two of you."

"We do that loads," Skandar laughs, a little puzzled.

"Yeah," she says, giving him a tight smile. "Right. Yeah, of course. Okay. Er. Bye?"

"Bye!" he says. "Good luck with the murder thing, if I don't see you before then."

" _It's not a murder thing_ ," she says, rolling her eyes, and then it feels a bit more normal again, a bit more comfortable.

"What-ever," he says jokingly, holding up his hands in a _W_ -shape, and she gives him the finger, grinning as she walks -- mostly backwards -- down the driveway.

He watches her cross the street, watches her until she's out of view, and then he shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

Something's not quite right.


End file.
